I find the courage to meld back into the crowd and continue down the slope towards the gate; towering at the end of the street. The gates are large, and made of polished marble and stone. It shines like opal in the midday sun. The crowds are heavier now, as I push through, though most are entering the city. It isn’t good to be caught outside past dark, but I have no choice, and I have ways to protect myself when sleeping in the wilds. Ways that my grandfather had taught me. 

The guards at the gate stop me, and I show them my tag. They let me pass with a pat on the shoulder. Past the gate is the Great Bridge. It spans the entrance to the Bay for a mile until it reaches land once again. It is made of the same marble and polished stone as the gate. The marble on the bridge has more gold veins running through it, and so the shine is more golden that the gate as it catches the rays of the sun. I look out over the bridge and to the waters. How deep they must go! I pull my hood on and go on my way. 

As soon as I take a couple of steps away from the gate my satchel begins to violently shake and slam against my leg several times; drawing the attention of the people nearest to me. I grab hold of the satchel to stop it from accidentally running into another person, and tear open the flap and dig inside; expecting to find some small mouse or rat having sneaked in at the restaurant to eat the bread wrapped away in the bottom. I pull aside the signed copies of my papers and instead find the leather bound journal glowing a bright yellow.

Excitement beats its way through my heart, and I pull it out. I open it and look through the pages. Once I pass about twenty of them until I finally find one with writing: 

“THE DULLAHAN GUILD BRANCH IS SEARCHING FOR 100 MOTHWORT, 50 SHEEP’S HEAD, AND 30 ATORIA’S TEARS TO BE DELIVERED TO THE GUILD BUILDING AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.”